


like a boa constrictor

by jinxfabray



Series: "things you said" meme [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: EDIT: NOW IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING, M/M, literally just angst idk it doesnt have a happy ending bc its a drabble im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-13 00:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11173278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxfabray/pseuds/jinxfabray
Summary: for the prompt, "things you said after it was over"





	1. Chapter 1

it’s hot, way too hot for autumn, but there’s a lot of people around him and the club is too small, there’s no air, it’s too dark but also there’s too many annoying colored lights. minseok can’t breathe, and he can’t find any of the people he came with, or the door. he doesn’t remember exactly how he got here, but then he sees him in the crowd, and he no longer cares.

luhan smirks at him from behind a couple that’s tightly grinding on each other, beckoning at him with his finger. it’s almost impossible to move, but minseok makes good use of his elbows and pushes his way past the crowd. the problem is, the crowd keeps pushing back, and it pushes luhan away, until minseok no longer sees him and he comes to a stop, caught in between a group of girls dancing together and eyeing him with dread. he’s not interested in them, he’s not interested in any of the people that keep dancing upon him, he doesn’t remember ever being interested in other people but luhan. 

it’s like he’s called for him with his mind, because suddenly he spots him leaning against a wall, and this time, minseok isn’t willing to let him escape. or get dragged away, whichever he wants to claim happened this time. minseok is tired of the games, he’s tired of pushing and pulling without ever knowing where they stand. he’s had enough of it, but at the same time, he’s here, marching towards luhan once again. 

luhan waits for him, eyes sparkling in the darkness of this more secluded side of the club. there’s less people around, and upon reaching him, minseok breathes again. there’s a metaphor there, probably, but he doesn’t want to think about it. 

“you’re not supposed to be here,” minseok says, and it’s kind of amazing how clear and loud his voice sounds, considering the music is resonating through his entire body, making him vibrate with it. luhan can hear still hear him perfectly, or at least he can guess what minseok is saying. “you left, you said you weren’t coming back.”

he has so many questions he can’t even start to ask, when did luhan come back, why, is he planning on staying. did he miss him. did he hope to find him here. does he regret leaving. it scares him to realize there’s almost no anger in those questions, because all it took was seeing him again to wash all the bitterness away from him. ever since they met, the things luhan can do to him have been terrifying, even if also wonderful in most cases.

“i can’t stay,” luhan smiles, like that’s somehow enough of an answer for all of the things minseok wants to know. “but i’m here now. is that enough?”

minseok breathes in deeply, the air heavy with smoke, and he doesn’t need to answer that. luhan has always known it’s more than enough, while he’s there. he knows it breaks minseok when he leaves as well, but that’s never seemed to matter to either of them. it’s the kind of pain minseok’s grown used to, a longing that’s settled into the deepest corners of his soul, burnt into his skin in a scar he doesn’t think he’ll ever get entirely rid of. 

“come home with me,” minseok offers, and this isn’t what he wants but it’s what he knows he can get. he won’t get answers, because luhan won’t stay long enough for that, and he won’t get him to stay. he learned that the hard way. luhan has dreams and ambitions and a life full of things that need to be tended to. he loves minseok, but minseok is just a boy, and luhan is the entire universe.

their friends used to joke about how different they were, how bright and loud luhan was, nothing like minseok, always a bit quieter, a bit more thoughtful. like the sun and the moon, they used to say. minseok never thought it was an accurate metaphor, for there are so many stars much brighter than the sun, burning much hotter, destined for massive explosions of light and energy that would refuel the universe -- luhan’s not the sun, he could never be anything but the best, even if shining the brightest means burning the fastest. but he’s a star alright, and minseok’s a moon, tiny, reflecting off of luhan as much as he can. he could never keep luhan, he was never enough to even try.

“i thought you’d never ask,” luhan grins, and minseok’s heart is beating so fast in his chest. it’s like a rollercoaster, closing the distance between him and luhan, knowing the thrill that’s about to come and how quickly it will end, leaving him alone and a bit dizzy. he takes a step towards him and reaches out to touch him.

he hadn’t noticed luhan’s clothes until now, but he takes a moment to drink him in now, the skinny jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly, the shirt with more than half the buttons undone. he can see his chest, the pale expanse of skin tempting him, and he can’t resist it. he moves to touch, wanting to feel his warmth against his cold fingers, to have his heart beating against his hand. 

his skin is beyond warm -- it’s hot. it’s really hot, so hot it burns minseok’s fingers when he touches him, makes him pull away and look up at luhan with eyes wide open. luhan isn’t smiling anymore, and he looks at his own hand, staring at his fingers before trying to touch minseok’s fingertips with his. it’s scalding, and luhan winces as he pulls away.

they stare at each other for a moment, and it’s starting to sink in, what this really is, but minseok isn’t ready to let go. he thought he was, but it’s become clear he isn’t, and he has no idea how he’s meant to leave luhan now. but he has to, so he closes the gap between them and he kisses him, pressing his lips against his. 

 

it hurts so much, minseok wakes up abruptly, sitting up on his bed. 

(it didn’t burn in real life, it wasn’t that what made him ache enough to shake him out of his dream. it was a different kind of pain.)

he blinks at the room around him, trying to focus back on reality. he’s alone, in his own bed, so that’s comforting. there’s birds singing outside his window, and when he manages to find his phone, he sees it’s half past five in the morning. there’s a book by his bed, so he must have fallen asleep while studying. 

everything’s normal. it’s just him, his room, the dull ache in his chest that hasn’t left him alone ever since luhan left, six months ago. he thought he was getting over it, but that was probably stupid of him to even consider.

his phone buzzes in his hand. deleting luhan’s number isn’t the same as blocking him, and it’s done nothing for him because he knows it by heart. seeing the digits feels exactly like having his icon pop up on the screen. 

he’s not even surprised he’s calling him, even if it makes absolutely no sense because they haven’t talked at all since he got on the plane and he probably knows it’s half past five in the morning for minseok, but he dreamt of him and it somehow seems logical that luhan would know it. that he’d feel it. maybe it burnt his skin too.

there’s silence when he picks up the call. neither says anything for so long, minseok should probably worry luhan’s accidentally dialed him and hasn't noticed, but he knows he’s there. 

“i have a very big room,” luhan says eventually, almost conversationally, as if he’s answering a question minseok didn’t ask. “it’s pretty, and it has a view. training’s been hard.”

stupid football scholarship. stupid england. minseok stares at the sun peeking through his blinds. their apartment -- his apartment, it has big windows but there’s too many tall buildings around. minseok never minded. he never needed to look outside, everything he needed was inside.

“it should hurt less by now,” minseok answers.

luhan hums on the other end of the line, like he doesn’t really agree. maybe it never hurt as bad for him. maybe he never expected to heal. minseok doesn’t know which option would make things better, he thinks neither.

“it’s been hard, but very rewarding,” he carries on, as if minseok had said nothing. “i should be happy, i think.”

(he’s sitting on the floor, leaning against a box full of books. there’s tons of boxes around his room he hasn’t unpacked yet. it’s been six entire months, and this is everything he ever dreamed of, but he hasn’t unpacked yet.)

“you could be,” minseok says, and he’s not sure what he means. probably that luhan will get over this, and he’ll get to be happy, fulfilling his dreams and all that. but maybe he means that luhan might as well be happy right now, for all minseok knows. this phone call feels as real as the dream he just had, might be what he means, and luhan could be sleeping soundly miles away, dreaming of football and pretty british boys. 

“i don’t think i am,” luhan ponders. he sounds so cool about this, but minseok knows better. even if it feels like there’s a rope tightly wrapped around his heart, squeezing it like it’s trying to dissolve it into dust, and like luhan’s the one still pulling at the metaphorical rope. like he’s got minseok on a leash, but the distance between them is so big minseok’s struggling for air. it does feel like that, and that’s how he knows luhan is suffering -- because he hasn’t let go. 

“it feels like drowning,” minseok says, sounding miserable and so tired, and luhan makes a noise. it’s the first thing that sounds close to real. 

luhan doesn’t say i’m sorry, because he isn’t, and that’s alright. minseok isn’t sure he wants him to be sorry. 

luhan says goodnight, like the sun isn’t rising already, like he thinks minseok could go back to sleep now, and he hangs up.

minseok closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. he won’t go back to sleep, but he can try. maybe he can dream again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't my best piece of writing but i did it with a lot of love happy birthday sara i hope u like it

he knocks on the door before he can regret coming here, taking a deep breath and holding it while he waits for it to open up. asking yixing for the address was his only choice, but the fact that his friend is usually very bad at remembering things is only adding to the uneasiness in his stomach.

finally, the door opens, and luhan’s jaw nearly drops. 

“hey,” the guy that’s opened the door says, and luhan can’t find any words, can’t remember how to make noises. he fears if he opens up his mouth, there’ll be a very high pitched screeching coming out from deep inside him. the guy’s handsome, half dressed and with his hair sticking up in all directions, and the combination of that and how slick and shiny his lips are makes it rather obvious luhan’s interrupted him from getting laid. this isn’t something luhan’s brain can process, because it might have been naive of him but god, he really didn’t expect to find some guy at minseok’s, even if it’s been almost a year since he left already.

idiot luhan, thinking minseok would’ve just been pining after him all this time, when he’s the most gorgeous guy luhan’s ever seen. of course he’s found someone else. 

“oh my god,” the guy says after staring at him for a while, eyes widening in recognition. “you’re luhan, aren’t you? i -- i saw pictures, you’re him, yeah? i’m kim jongdae.”

fuck. 

“yeah,” luhan says, staring at the guy’s feet. he was planning on leaving before minseok saw him, pretend this never happened, but now the guy knows who he is and everything’s ruined. 

there’s steps approaching and luhan doesn’t dare look up.

“babe,” a voice says, and it’s not minseok’s voice so that makes luhan’s eyes shoot up. there’s another guy, looking as wrecked as jongdae, and suddenly something in his stomach starts disentangling. “who’s this?”

“does minseok still live here?” he asks with a voice that sounds small and faraway and nothing like his own.

“oh yeah, he’s probably in his room wearing earplugs or something,” the new guy chuckles. jongdae elbows him in the ribs kinda gently, rolling his eyes at him.

“come on in, i’ll let him know you’re here,” he says, walking back into the apartment and leaving the door open for luhan. he follows both boys inside, his heart still beating loudly against his ribs. 

he watches jongdae march down the hallway, and the other guy lingers behind, busying himself gathering discarded clothes from around the couch. it’s rather admirable how he’s not even blushing, actually.

“so you’re minseok’s boyfriend,” he says suddenly, looking up at luhan with a mischievous smile. 

“baekhyun,” jongdae’s voice calls, right on cue, saving luhan from having to explain himself. “get in here.”

baekhyun winks at luhan and skips down the hallway, leaving him all alone in the living room. another entire minute goes by before he hears a door opening up, and then his heart that used to be racing goes entirely still. it’s been almost a year -- it’s been eleven months, three days, five hours, and he hasn’t checked his watch since he knocked so he’s not sure but possibly around twenty minutes. a long time indeed, and yet minseok looks exactly the same as he did when they said goodbye, still as beautiful as ever.

“sorry about my roommate, neither he or his boyfriend have a great sense of boundaries,” minseok says with the tiniest hint of a smile, and it takes all of luhan’s strength not to collapse right then and there because minseok looks wary of him and of course he does. he left him. he was an idiot. “i didn’t know you were coming, are you --” minseok stops, seeming lost for words. he’s trying hard to be polite, but it doesn’t seem to be working and luhan doesn’t need it, he hopes he knows that. “what are you doing here,” he ends up saying, clearly having given up on finding better words.

“i came back,” luhan says, trying for a smile. he fails. “i wasn’t happy. it wasn’t gonna work. football isn’t everything.”

minseok makes a noise, a mix of a whine and a snort, and luhan chews on his lip as he looks at him process his words. he knew it wouldn’t be easy. it shouldn’t be easy, he fucked up, he’s willing to work on fixing it.

“i waited for so long to hear you say that, and i felt bad about it because it was selfish to hope you wouldn’t be happy without me,” minseok says slowly, and luhan wishes he wasn’t still standing so far away, but he doesn’t dare move towards him. 

“i tried, i really did,” he offers with a shrug. “i’d already made a choice and i had hurt you and i felt like i had to manage to live with it but then i thought -- it didn’t feel like there was a point. i can do something else here, i’d rather do anything else with you around than that stupid scholarship with you on the other side of the world. but i wasn’t sure -- i’d understand if you don’t want me to be around. i’m willing to try and be friends, or anything you’d let me, but i’d understand if you don’t want anything at all.”

there’s silence, or something similar to it because luhan can still hear noises coming from jongdae’s room that he really doesn’t want to think too much about. minseok looks torn, to say the least, and luhan is ready to leave when he remembers something.

“that guy -- the one with your roommate, he asked me if i was your boyfriend.”

the silence feels heavier now, somehow.

and then minseok starts giggling.

it’s like he’s collapsing under the weight of it all, but not in a terribly bad way. he’s just standing there, with that adorable giggle of his luhan has missed so much it’s kept him from sleeping properly for eleven whole months.

“i’m possibly an idiot for not having told them you were my ex, but it felt so wrong,” he says when he catches his breath, and he’s coming towards luhan and luhan’s heart cannot take any of this. “but you’re an idiot for moving countries just to try and get your ex back,” he’s smiling for real now, and luhan doesn’t think hearts can physically grow but his is managing to do it.

“maybe you weren’t my ex,” luhan whispers once minseok’s chest to chest with him. “maybe we were just on a timeout?”

“let’s not use sports metaphors for a while,” minseok says wincing a little, but he’s back to smiling in no time and luhan would easily swear off sports for life if he asked him to. he knows he won’t now, he knows minseok would never make him choose, and he knows he will always choose him anyway.

“should i stay then,” luhan sort of asks, pretending his brain is still working with minseok pressing his nose to his chin, to his jaw, nearly kissing him but not quite. 

“you don’t have to leave on my behalf,” minseok hums. “we can try this -- i wouldn’t mind giving it a go, is what i’m saying. we’ll see how it goes, and i’ll let you know how i feel about keeping you around,” he says, but when he kisses him it’s with a smile on his lips that luhan can feel against his mouth, and it leaves him hopeful.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> @ofstellardust on twitter


End file.
